


Real life isn't a movie (life doesn't make narrative sense)

by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Banter, Beta Derek Hale, Christmas Fluff, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Holidays, M/M, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, POV Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 16:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17005098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle
Summary: Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.





	Real life isn't a movie (life doesn't make narrative sense)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [literaryoblivion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/gifts).



“You are the absolute worst,” he tells Scott, because they’ve gone over this way too many times already. “You’re hoarding everything and now there’s nothing left for me. You ruined Christmas, you asshole!” 

His best friend and recent stepbrother is just laughing at him, that typical Scott sound echoing through his head through his cheap ass headphones. He really misses hearing it in real life, but for now, headphones will have to do. 

Scott just continues to laugh at him. “I just offered to let mom and the Sheriff a Christmas without airplane travel and with Kira’s cooking. How could they say no to that?” 

He is not getting out of DC over the holidays - there is too much going on at the office and he could be called in at any moment. He can’t be in California when that happens - and so he’s not seeing his family this year, and spending the holidays alone, eating pizza and drinking cheap beer while staring at case files and hoping something starts to make sense. 

“Not even I could say no to that. You are evil.” He huffs loudly, making the guy at the table next to him glare at him once again. 

The busy DC streets haven’t been very kind to him while he walks and talks, so he’s found a table at a local coffee shop. He needs the caffeine to keep going with his serious lack of sleep, plus he cannot be out in the cold all the time or he’ll die. He is a fragile California boy who still isn’t used to the East Coast weather. That’s why he currently has his hoodie pulled over his ears so that they won’t freeze the fuck off. 

It was already touch and go with his toes last year. And soon there will be snow. 

“Stop laughing at me, you dick!” He screeches at Scott. 

Tall, Dark, and Brooding at the table next to him turns and growls. Actually growls, like he’s a runaway from a Twilight novel. His eyes look bright blue for a second there, before going back to their normal color - which is singular in and of itself. 

“I am not laughing at you.” That deep voice is… interesting. 

It’s kind of hot, and really fucking angry. And he has no idea why. What did he do?

“Sorry, dude, what?” He takes out one earbud. 

The guy doesn’t even look at him, he just continues to glare and growl. “You’ve been insulting me for ten minutes! Stop calling me dude, or asshole, or dick, or whatever you think passes as a pet name.” 

A pet name? What the actual fuck is this guy on?

“Pet name?” Stiles can feel his eyebrows raising. “I don’t bust out pet names on the first date - maybe on the third, but that depends on how well it’s going. And dude is definitely not one of the pet names in my repertoire. Neither is dick.” 

“Stiles, what the hell are you talking about?” Scott is generally confused again. 

Really, he is not the type for pet names, not in general. But perhaps that is just because he’s never been in a relationship long enough to develop them. Or in a relationship, period. Just sex did not a relationship make. 

With the amount of work he has on his plate at the moment, a relationship would be a terrible idea. And he’s never met anyone he wanted to be with as much as he wanted to be with Lydia, way back when. And since that was never going to happen....

“What the fuck did I do to you?” Tall, Dark, and Brooding is just not letting this go. 

“Scott, buddy, I gotta go,” he tells his now rambling best friend. “Apparently I’ve managed to insult someone without even talking to them. I think that’s a record, even for me, but you can check that with my dad. Because I am a gift, and he has years of experience with that.” 

With the times his father had teased about returning this particular gift, he knew that the Sheriff was just going to laugh when Scott told him about this. 

“Call me later,” Scott orders him, a real stretch for that puppy dog goober. “Just to make sure you haven’t gotten yourself maimed again.” 

This is the point where he’d flip Scott off if they were face to face, but alas… The distance between DC and Beacon Hills kinda made that impossible. 

“Look, dude,” he emphasized that word just to piss off the guy even more - because he could. “I was just talking to my best friend. And step-brother. Because our parents got married. And isn’t that a trip.” 

It’s been a few months, but he’s still not over the newness of it. Because while Melissa has always been special, and she’s told him a million times over that she does not want to replace his actual mother, it still stings like a motherfucker. He wants a mother, has for years, but he wants  _ his _ mother most of all. 

And that is never going to happen. Way to rub that in, life. 

“Anyway,” he starts up again, “I wasn’t talking to you, so no need to get all offended.” 

The attractive stranger is still glaring at him, so obviously his message is not getting through properly - which makes him think the guy is a lot dumber than he was going to give him credit for. And that also makes him less attractive. 

“Look, headphones,” he yanks the other earbud out of his ear and shows both to the unimpressed stranger. “I was on the phone with Scotty. Insults are kind of how we communicate. It’s like we’re actually brothers. Not that I’d know, because I’ve never had a brother before. Do you know?” 

He slowly pushes down the hood on his red hoodie so that the stranger can see that he means him no harm. It is not going to solve the initial misunderstanding, but maybe it will stop the growling. Because that is still a thing for some reason. If not for the all too human snarling speech, he would have some serious concerns about this guy. 

“I have sisters,” the stranger starts to talk. 

Stiles waits for more words, but it seems that this stranger is not particularly interested in telling Stiles anything else. Because the guy still hates him. 

So he just talks, hoping that somewhere in his rambles he can make the guy think of him as a decent slash harmless guy. “I really don’t know if I should be happy for you or offer my condolences. I don’t know what sisters are like and pop culture kinda sends a mixed message. I’m assuming there’s a lot of teasing involved. That’s what I’ve heard.” 

At the word “condolences”, the stranger flinches, and Stiles just feels like even more of an asshole. Clearly that is a minefield he really did not mean to step into. But once his foot is in his mouth, it is stuck there for a good long while. 

“There is a lot of teasing,” the stranger finally says. 

Seems like it is costing him quite a lot to speak up, but he does it anyway. Stiles really doesn’t get this guy, how he can go from yelling and growling and snarling and glaring, to trying to find kindness for Stiles just to keep the conversation going. This guy does not make sense, and Stiles has never been very good with that. But he tries. 

“Thank you for confirming my sitcom-based hypothesis,” he smiles kindly at the stranger. “I’m Stiles.” 

He holds out a hand for the other man to shake, because he wants to know this person. His magic is already flickering under his skin, dying to reach out to someone new and interesting. His spark is feeling a spark of interest - hah, spark jokes, always fun. 

“Derek.”

The stranger sits himself down at Stiles’ table and shakes his hand, briskly, quickly. There is no ceremony to it, and still his spark is desperate to come out and say hello - there is something about this guy that pulls him in. He is just not sure if it’s cause the man is hot like burning, or if it’s because there’s actually something magical about him. 

Or both. It could always be both. 

Because the guy - Derek - feels it too, almost leaning in after their hands touch. He stops himself way too quickly, but Stiles can absolutely work with that. He’s started from worse places and still ended up in someone’s bed. 

“Der-Bear!” 

Except maybe not this time. Because Derek cringes at the name, and his eyes widen briefly before he schools them into an expression of… annoyance? Constipation? 

“Laura. Cora.” Derek is radiating tension now. 

Girlfriend? Family member? The sisters!

Yeah, the opportunity for mocking is the greatest with that last one. He just really, really hopes that these are Derek’s sisters and they are going to make fun of him for something or other and Stiles gets to watch. That would be both excellent entertainment and a way for the universe to make up for having Derek yell at him earlier. 

Because he really didn’t deserve that, insert pout here. Well, okay, he might have deserved it for some of his previous antics, but not from Derek. Right? 

“So this is the boyfriend?”

What the fuck. Seriously? Is his life actually turning into a Hallmark movie? If it is, color him interested because what a leading man! And he really isn’t looking forward to spending the holidays all by himself, no matter what he claims to his family and friends. It may not be true love, but at least there will be shenanigans over the holidays. He pretty much lives for those. 

“That’s me,” he goes for it, without any prompting from Derek. “Though Der-Bear here did not tell me that you two would be meeting him here. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have dressed like Little Red Riding Hood.”

Derek is choking on thin air for some reason, so he unzips the hoodie a bit further and makes sure the hood is properly pushed back before smiling happily at him. Because he will always be a little shit and it is best that Derek finds out about that right away, if their relationship is going to last. 

At least through the holiday season - he’s hoping for a nice family Christmas. 

“It’s not offensive or anything,” the older sister quickly moves to reassure him. “But it is prime mocking material, and Derek will be hearing about this forever.”

How could a red hoodie be offensive? Like, he is not aware of any religions or cultures that - holy fucking shit, they’re werewolves (the flash of beta blue makes so much more sense to him now). Here he is, dressed as a famous fairytale character who almost got eaten by wolves, and while he wouldn’t mind Derek eating him (not now, boner), that might make things a bit awkward with the in-laws.

The fake in-laws, who can tell when he’s lying. Gotta remember that part. 

“At least none of you is wearing wizard robes,” Stiles decides just to even up the score after his discovery. “That would be personally offensive. We don’t all have glasses and lightning shaped scars, you know. That’s just prejudice.”

A red spark extends between his thumb and index fingers, just to show off that he’s a harmless little spark and they can trust him. Because he’s met a couple werewolves through work, and they aren’t exactly open and trusting people in general. Only that kanima guy was worse about his privacy - the fae were actually quite happy to tell him tall tales of the things their people had accomplished over the years. 

“We could see the sparks between the two of you right away,” the older sister is still the only one speaking. 

Derek seems embarrassed, pointedly not looking at Stiles and sipping his black coffee petulantly, but he is also not refuting any of this. At some point, he is going to need to start talking, because Stiles doesn’t even know his last name! And that should probably be a dealbreaker for any relationship, even a fake one. 

“Since Der-Bear here is too embarrassed to introduce me,” he ploughs through with all the tact of a bulldozer, “my name is Stiles. Stilinski. And before you ask: no, my parents didn’t name me Stiles Stilinski, they were too busy tossing all the least-used Scrabble letters together and making those into an approximation of a name. So, I go by Stiles. No, I haven’t told Derek my real name. That’s a marriage only type deal.”

Both sisters laugh, loudly. Derek does not react. 

“Well, guess we’re taking Derek ring shopping,” the youngest one finally speaks up, voice dry as dust. “What’s your ring size?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure grandma’s ring won’t fit,” the oldest sister is staring way too closely at his hands. 

Stiles looks at Derek, trying to catch his eye, but clearly his boyfriend is way too busy joining his sister in the staring. He’s heard people talk about his mouth before - usually in explicit yet flattering terms - but no one has ever been this focused on his hands before. But Derek cannot seem to stop staring, and it is making Stiles have all the explicit thoughts about where he can put those hands. 

“Der,” he tries to interrupt the staring. “I know you love my hands, and we’ll absolutely reintroduce you to them later, I believe that there’s a reason your sisters are here.”

That makes Derek blush and the sisters cringe, which is all kinds of delightful. Derek’s blush is almost subtle, except for the tips of his ears turn a little red as well and Stiles has never been more excited about this Hallmark Christmas movie life he’s living. 

“They wanted to meet you,” Derek finally lets go of his stupid cup. “Before Christmas. They were worried you’d run off if you met the entire family all at once.”

So this boyfriend he’s impersonating is supposed to come around for the holidays - he can absolutely make that work. If work doesn’t get too crazy, of course. He can still get called in, because the supernatural division of the FBI just doesn’t get holidays. And because he’s pretty much at the bottom of the totem pole (he’s the youngest and perpetually pathetically single), he’s left to work all of the holidays everyone wants to spend with their families. 

If that’s what gets him the Hallmark Christmas with Derek and his family, he’s all for it. 

“I’m not running,” he grabs Derek’s hand, hoping it will look adorable. “If the thing about the ring shopping didn’t scare me off, neither will your family. My dad is a sheriff who knows about the w-word. You should be the scared one. I can’t promise he won’t take out his gun when he meets you. It’s been just us for so long… He gets overprotective.”

The way the siblings flinch collectively means that he has once again stuck his foot in it. And because not every town is like Beacon Hills, where law enforcement is maybe only half human and all the others are at least aware… These people might have encountered some less than pleasant humans - hunters even, maybe. 

“Remember what I told you? About Deputy Parrish? Dad’s second? He’s a hellhound,” he just continues to babble, hoping it helps. “So he’s pretty used to the wacky stuff. And when he sees how happy you make me… It’ll be fine, Der.”

That seems to have saved it, which is good, because he does not want to be the throwaway bonus love interest in the Hallmark movie.The one that no one actually cares about. He does not want to be the roadblock to Derek finding his actual Christmas soulmate. He wants to be the fake boyfriend that teaches Derek to be happy again. 

Really, he has no problems with being the manic pixie dream boy for a while.

“That’s adorable,” the older sister is smiling widely. “Mom is going to die. Uncle Peter is going to mock you forever and ever until the end of time, but Mom will be happy that finally someone is properly appreciating her baby boy.” 

Derek continues to look shy, and embarrassed, and maybe even a bit wounded. So Stiles reaches out, grabbing Derek’s warm hand in his and squeezing. He is probably just making it worse - even though a gesture like this would solidify their cover - and any second now Derek is going to flinch away from him and reveal the truth. 

“Laura,” Derek growls, clinging to Stiles’ hand. “Can you give us a minute?” 

So the older sister is Laura, and the younger one is Cora. That’s helpful. 

“Canoodle in peace,” Cora drags her older sister away from them. 

“No overhearing our conversation,” Derek warns his sisters. “I can still tell mom the real reason why you were late to her birthday dinner.” 

Nice, at least the blackmail is reciprocal. He can’t wait to get the embarrassing true story out of Derek later, once the sisters are out of normal werewolf hearing range. Which probably means that they’ll head to a coffee place around the block somewhere, because if they stay in the building they will be able to hear everything. 

How are they supposed to be good fake boyfriends if his sisters know right away? That is, if they’re going to keep at the whole fake relationship thing. Maybe he’s just an inconvenient stranger who interrupted the actual first meeting between Derek’s boyfriend and his family. 

Not that Derek is talking. 

“So, dude,” Stiles knows he’s the one who’ll have to lead the conversation, “I hope I didn’t screw anything up for you, but they were expecting a boyfriend and you were kind of lacking one. If your real boyfriend wants to beat me up, please give me a five minute head start. Or ten minutes. Because I’m not that fast, especially not compared to a werewolf.” 

He just wants to get all of the possible reasons for rejection out of the way, and then they can get to actual movie tropes. He’s off duty for the rest of the day and then there’s three more days of work before he’s on call all through the holidays. Which he will hopefully be spending with Derek’s entire family, before Derek falls madly in love with him and asks him to stay forever. And they never reveal to his family that they weren’t really dating before. 

Isn’t that how it works in the movies? 

“No real boyfriend,” Derek looks almost embarrassed to admit it. “I was going to make up an excuse. But you were there.” 

Stiles smiles, because he’s an idiot. “You’re a lucky man.” 

Not that any person would see it that way - most people probably would have held out for someone a lot better than Stiles, but Derek probably didn’t have any better options. Sure, there are probably a lot more attractive guys drinking their coffee, but he’d just been holding Stiles’ hand when his sisters had come busting in. That might have tipped the scales in his favor a bit. 

But would that make Derek lucky to have him? Maybe - at least he now has someone who is going to make him talk even if it kills him.  

Once again, he has to make the first move. “So, details. You’re going to need to tell me a lot more than your first name if we’re going to make this work.” 

Because it is absolutely going to get awkward if he gets tripped up on questions about Derek’s day to day life or even his last name. He knows nothing about this guy except his first name, and that he is a rather introverted guy with two meddling sisters and a mother who adores him. Which is not a lot to go on, even for someone with profiling training. 

“You’re staying?” Derek apparently did not expect that. 

He just smiles, because Derek doesn’t know him yet. “Of course I am, dude.” 

Derek has no idea who Stiles is, what he does for a living, or even what kind of a person he is. Derek knows he’s the son of a sheriff who has a step-brother slash BFF named Scott, and that he was impulsive enough to pretend to be his boyfriend. 

“Don’t call me dude.” That Derek knows about him. 

And Derek is about to get another lesson in just how annoying he can be. 

“Der-Bear, honey,” he cuts off his endless list of nicknames at the look on Stiles’ face. “I’m staying. I don’t have anything else going on, except work. My entire family is on the west coast. Not that there’s a lot of us. And besides, how many chances am I going to get to be the lead in my very own Hallmark holiday movie?” 

The best friend? Probably a ton of opportunities. He’d been the sassy best friend when Scott and Allison dated, when he started dating Kira, when Lydia and Jackson got back together last year, after they’d been broken up for years after the whole mess in junior year (and the mess that brought them back together)… He could do that part asleep, with his hands tied behind his back. He just never expected to be male lead material. 

Especially not starring opposite Tall, Dark and Brooding Derek. 

* * *

So, in the roughly five minutes Laura and Cora had given them to discuss things privately, they’d run through all the basics. 

New information, a summary:

Derek is from a big family, the close knit Hale pack that he vaguely remembered from when they lived back in Beacon Hills (seriously, what the fuck were the odds on that!). They’d moved to the DC area when hunters set their home on fire, something they’d only managed to escape because a teenage Laura and Derek caught Derek’s girlfriend at the time in the act of closing the wolfsbane circle around the house. 

And oh yeah, that girlfriend was Allison’s aunt, and a mature adult seducing a fifteen year old boy to find out his family’s secrets. Which, if he ever did get back to California, he was going to have a serious word with Chris Argent about that part. Why? Because, gross and evil and completely not okay in any way, that’s why. 

Also, they’d talked through the stuff Derek had told his family about his fake boyfriend. Turns out, not that much of a stretch for Stiles: demanding job (he definitely has that covered, since his three days of work have already turned into four and a half, and it is not Monday yet), meeting only four months ago (so they have a valid excuse not to know everything about each other yet). 

Derek did tell them they met at a bar, but he did not mention how they got to talking - and the sisters have definitely been jumping to their own conclusions about what happened and how that meeting led to a relationship. (“Sex, Derek. They think we had a ton of sex and then decided to date. Or you got desperate and granted me a boon.”)

They were on the subject of boundaries and PDA when the sisters came back into hearing range. That was an interesting conversation, because Stiles is pretty much comfortable with whatever - and would love to cross kissing Derek off his bucket list - but Derek was a little too sure that nothing was going to happen (“You know there’s going to be mistletoe, right?” “Stiles, we’re werewolves.” “Right. But your sisters are absolutely going to make us kiss.”). 

Of course that last bit was the first thing that Laura and Cora heard, and they agreed immediately - not that Stiles could hear exactly what they said to make Derek blush like that. 

And now it is Sunday afternoon, the 23rd of December, and Derek is calling him at work.

“Hey babe,” he picks up the phone right away, smiling pettily at his coworkers. 

“At least it isn’t dude,” Derek replies, sounding like he’s rolling his eyes. “I’m just calling because my Mom insists on us staying over, at least through Boxing day and maybe longer if you can handle it. You can make up a work emergency to get out of it.”

That’s adorable - Derek is warning him about sleepovers and bedsharing, like he hadn’t accepted with full knowledge of the trope. He’s seen (and enjoyed) many movies on the topic, and the few hours he’d spent at home were spent doing research. Because that’s just the kind of guy he is. Thorough. 

And if he gets to smugly say sweet nothings to Derek on the phone while the few colleagues with more pathetic lives than him have to listen along… Well that’s just a coincidence. 

“Now why would I want to do that?” He is delighted at the progression of the plot. “Your family can’t be that awful. It’ll be fine. Unless you’re planning to be done with me. And the whole conversation about the ring kind of contradicts that.”

After four months, a conversation about rings is a lot, but he knows enough about werewolves that they tend to move quickly once they find someone they think would be a good partner. Oh God, fuck, does he smell like an actual partner to Derek? That is so fucking awesome and beyond terrifying at the same time!

“Stiles,” Derek sputters, and shit he loves this movie so much. 

Should he smell more like Derek, though? He really hasn’t considered the werewolf aspect of his Hallmark movie too much - he hasn’t been able to find any movies about that side of things, just whole bunches of explicit fanfiction that he has not been able to read without blushing and/or jerking his dick raw. 

Werewolves are a kinky bunch, apparently. And they can smell arousal, so that is going to be really fucking interesting when he’s sharing a house with a bunch of them - and sharing a room with Derek - for days on end! He’s pretty close with his old friend mortification, so he’ll probably be fine. Or at least he’ll live. 

“I’ll be fine,” he is smiling at his phone now, like this is something real. “Promise. If you do get sick of me, I can’t blame you, and I promise to make up some random monster that only I can capture. My safeword is kanima, what’s yours?”

Of course Derek is perfectly silent at that. Stiles wouldn’t expect anything different. 

It is quiet on the other end for much too long, so it’s time for him to talk again. “Look, I promise I’m taking this seriously. I’m happy to get to know your family, and I want to spend the holidays with you. If you still want me to.” 

Is this the part where the pining starts? Because he’s into it. He’s into Derek, the strange mix of growling and glaring and blushing and rolling his eyes. He would have been into him even if they hadn’t been fake boyfriends, and this is just the excuse to explore it.

Maybe after this whole thing, he’ll ask Derek out for real. 

“I’ll pick you up at six-thirty tomorrow,” Derek finally speaks again. 

Who knows? Maybe Derek will actually say yes. 

* * *

He has been home for roughly twenty minutes when Derek texts him that he’s arrived. His hair is still wet from the shower, his work go-bag has been co-opted (minus some of his weapons weapons and plus one sappy gift for Derek), and he is actually getting nervous about the whole deal. Which is stupid, but it’s still happening. 

But as long as he does not give himself any time to think about that, he will be fine. So he hoists the way too heavy bag over his shoulder, barely remembers to lock the door behind him, and runs down the stairs without falling on his face for once. He stares wide eyed at the seriously sexy car pulled up in front of the apartment, and then tries to quit gaping before the seriously sexy guy in said car notices the drooling. 

“I’m here,” he announces, throwing his bag in the trunk. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but work has been a pain in my ass and I only got home half an hour ago. I figured not having kelpie gunk in my neck might be a good thing for meeting the family.” 

Derek just gives him a look, in that way he has that says more than a thousand words. Stiles would just rather say the thousand words, because silence is not his friend. It gives people way too much time to consider him and look at him closely. So, yeah, talking is better. 

“Good idea,” Derek is darkly sarcastic, and he adores it already. 

“So, your family,” he is fishing for a mission report, because he’s a damn good agent and he’s not going in without more intel. “Your sisters, your mom, your uncle. Anyone else?” 

He barely has his seatbelt on before Derek peels away with a speed that belies that he’s been a werewolf for all of his life. Clearly human mortality has never been a concern of his, because he’s gracefully maneuvering through traffic at a speed that would absolutely make the sheriff kick his ass. But his dad has never seen these particular werewolf reflexes at work - Stiles still feels safe in the car, as Derek comes to a stop before a red light. 

“My brother and my dad,” Derek glances at him briefly before the light changes. “Uncle Peter’s wife is pregnant. She can’t drink, and so neither can Peter.” 

“I’m on call still, so neither can I,” he shrugs. “Besides, wolfsbane booze has never agreed with me. I’ve tried it twice and it gets me worse than tequila.” 

And oh, he has some stories about his love-hate relationship with tequila, college tales of drunken debauchery that he barely remembered in the morning. Of course, most of it had been well-documented by his friends and foes alike, so thanks for that. But wolfsbane infused alcohol? That can kill a human. 

“I don’t drink,” Derek’s jaw is tightly clenched. 

So there’s a story there. One he knows he isn’t entitled to. 

“So, your sisters’ names, they rhyme,” he randomly changes the subject. “Does that mean that your brother’s name is Eric? Derek and Eric? No?” 

Once again, Derek gives him that look that is supposed to tell him that he is a terrible person and he should be ashamed of himself. Instead, it just makes him happy that he is getting to Derek, and that he is on the right path to teach Derek how to have fun. Soon he’ll actually make fun of Stiles in return and everything will be as it should be. 

“Not everyone can be as lucky as you,” Derek is wonderfully sarcastic. “But no, his name is Owen. He’s the oldest, so you probably have never heard of him. He lives in New York with his wife. She might not be there, if she’s not feeling up to it.”

“No other significant others I need to know?” Stiles does not believe that, because that would not be fair to Derek. “I’m sure your sisters wouldn’t be so worried about you dating if they hadn’t been happily married themselves.”

Scott has been getting a lot worse about Stiles’ lack of a significant other since he’d married Kira and they got their perfect little house all fixed up. He can relate, and even though Derek is not even looking at him, he still feels like he can see him much better now - like he is actually getting to know the pieces that make up Derek Hale. 

“Cora and Isaac are getting married next year,” Derek drives them right out of the city. “Laura and her husband Paul have a set of twins named Luke and Leia.”

Laura is a woman after his own heart. He feels like he will absolutely get along with Laura’s husband too - he’s already scored points that Scott will never gain because he is an idiot with bad taste. Ugh, his best friend is the worst. 

Stiles is trying to contain his excitement, and failing. “I love your family.”

Is this the time where he worries that this is not actually a Hallmark movie, and he’s instead ended up in a horror movie? Because he’s already dropped a bar on his cell service, and they are definitely headed into a wooded area. Nah, he’s got a gun and his magic, and while he did not bring any wolfsbane with him because he wants the Hales to like him, he can definitely handle himself if the werewolves decide to make trouble. 

He would never leave the house without mountain ash. 

“They will undoubtedly fall all over themselves for you,” Derek rolls his eyes as he deftly steers them onto a well-hidden road. “I don’t bring people home.”

Because he has Issues. That much is obvious - he’s already mentally preparing for the shovel talk that is undoubtedly coming his way from at least one of Derek’s siblings (he’d put money on Cora if there was anyone willing to take that bet). They care about Derek, and just the mere fact that Stiles actually exists to be actually invited to spend Christmas with the family, means that he is basically a miracle come to life. 

Of course they’re going to get suspicious - but not for the right reasons. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll turn those pity likes into love for me before the presents even come out,” Stiles knows where his talents lie. 

“With your wit?” Derek appears to be asking for the sake of it. 

Stiles can see right through that though - he is a little shit and like calls to like. Derek is definitely making fun of him, even though his smile isn’t showing. 

“Eat me,” he returns, perfectly pleasantly. 

“Not tonight.” Derek is quick with that reply. 

And yes, he will absolutely take Derek up on that inadvertent offer at a later time. And Derek knows that, judging by the hint of a smile on his handsome face. 

“So, Derek, how many people around you are completely convinced you don’t have a sense of humor?” Inquiring minds need to know. 

“All of them,” Derek is actually slowing down as they reach the end of the forest road. 

“Has to suck to be that wrong,” he remarks, taking a final opportunity to look at Derek without him noticing. 

Then he looks ahead as they approach the house - nay, the mansion - hidden in the middle of the forest. That is some house. He knows that the Hales were basically werewolf royalty before they left California, but clearly the move across the country hasn’t hurt them at all. 

“Should I call you Prince Derek?” He has to check, to be an asshole. 

Derek stares straight ahead. “Only if you want me to leave you stranded in the woods.”

He is enjoying the banter though, no undue tension in his body - it had been there when they left, and he’s steadily been getting more relaxed as they started to talk and joke. That is the sort of thing that makes Stiles think that he might actually have a shot here. 

“You caught me,” he grins happily at Derek. “That was my plan all along, to escape my terrible life and get caught in the woods on Christmas Eve. I could get taken by sexy werewolves. Or a sexy werewolf in particular, really. I’m picky.”

For about half a second, he thinks Derek might actually smile, but then it’s gone. Which just means that he will have to up the ante to get a proper smile out of him - it’ll happen by the end of the night, for sure. That’s Hallmark for ya. 

“Who’s the creep staring at us from the porch?” Stiles says after they’ve come to a stop. 

If said creep is a werewolf, he will absolutely be able to hear it. Which is why he’s been waiting for Derek to turn the engine off so he could time it properly. 

Derek turns to him, trying to figure out his motives. “Yes Peter, he absolutely did that on purpose.” 

So creepy uncle it is. Good. He’s already making an impression. 

* * *

The Hales are not particularly subtle, so Stiles feels like the one person who was actually ready for the Spanish inquisition. Sorry John Cleese. 

“So Stiles,” Creepy Uncle Peter takes the lead in the interrogation. 

“Let me just get it out of the way right now,” he cuts the man off before he can get into any cliched questions. “I’m an Aries, I know about werewolves, I hate long walks on the beach but I like video games and musty old books. Sheriff Stilinski is my father so yes, I probably look familiar for a reason. I think that while Derek is totally hot like burning, his sarcasm might be his best quality. Thank you, I’ll be here all week - mostly. If I’m not called in.”

The guy he thinks is Laura’s husband Paul actually moves to applaud, which just makes Stiles like him more. Scott just doesn’t appreciate him like this anymore. Maybe he should get an east coast BFF - that would show him. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek is completely straight-faced. 

“I don’t have to be a wolf to be able to tell that’s a lie.” He sing-songs the last word, reaching for Derek, who’s conveniently right next to him. “Because you actually think I’m funny.”

Of course the entire Hale family is ready to buy tickets to this show. Creepy Uncle Peter appears delighted, and the same goes for Laura, Cora, and their partners. Owen is not impressed yet, and not creepy aunt April has a carefully blank face. Derek’s mom and dad look like they’re a little too emotional at the sight of someone teasing their son and him teasing right back. This is a rare sight for them, that much is clear. 

“Not at all,” Derek turns to face him. 

“Sarcasm,” he shoots back a fraction of a second after Derek stops talking. “Seriously, people don’t see how hilarious you are, and it hurts my sensitive soul.”

At this point, most of the family is looking back and forth like this is a tennis match and they’re at Wimbledon - yes, Stiles firmly believes that he is actually that good at the whole banter thing. And Derek is a worthy opponent. 

“You? Sensitive?” Derek is very expressive with those eyebrows of his. 

“You know exactly how sensitive I am.” It is easy to go for the dirty joke, because that is just how his brain works. “But we can talk about that later.” 

Since the family doesn’t jump up and call him a liar, or even flinch, none of their banter seems to be registering as lies - or is that just because his heart is racing anyway? 

“Now would be a good time to remind you that all of the bedrooms have been soundproofed,” Creepy Uncle Peter is smirking at them, because of course he is. “So you can actually have that discussion in private.” 

When he gets Derek alone - not now, boner - he is absolutely going to get some more intel on the creepy uncle and how involved he seems to be in Derek’s business. Stiles is getting the sense that Uncle Peter would prefer it if the bedrooms were not soundproofed - because of the blackmail. The guy feels very Machiavellian so far - he just always looks like he knows a secret no one else in the room is even aware of. 

It is a very specific look, okay. And Stiles has worked with serial killers. He knows that look - and he can never tell Derek that he compared his uncle to a serial killer. 

Talia Hale just looks at her younger brother. “ You don’t want me to tell the kids about the things I saw when you and April first got together.” 

“You don’t have to,” Owen shudders. “I am old enough to remember. The smell alone was enough to make me want to run away. ” 

Werewolves, they’re a lot. And Stiles might be the only human in the room at this point - which is a brand new experience for him, even with his job being what it is. Though, well, would he still qualify as fully human, with his Spark? Wow, totally not the point. 

Is this the point where he asks for embarrassing anecdotes of Derek as a child?

“No,” Derek tells him before he even opens his mouth. “I know how your mind works, and no one is showing you baby pictures. And no embarrassing stories.” 

He knows that werewolves should not be able to read minds, but this is definitely making him suspicious of the information that he has had access to so far. Like, he’s met Derek twice before today, and he knows that he is not all that predictable. But he is reading Derek so easily, able to tell when he is joking when not even his family knows that Derek has a sense of humor. And Derek just said exactly what he was thinking. 

How is that possible? It shouldn’t be. 

“But that’s my entire reason for being here,” he pouts at Derek, trying to get his fake boyfriend to look at his mouth. 

“Lie.” 

Derek is not the only one who called him out on that, but it is difficult to focus on anyone but Derek. Especially now that Derek cannot seem to stop looking at his mouth, and he is painfully aware that all of the werewolves at the table can tell what he’s feeling. There is no subtlety possible here, and at this point he does not particularly care. 

“I see what you meant now, Laura,” Talia Hale breaks the silence, but he barely even registers what she is saying. 

“Don’t you mean, smell what she meant?” Joshua Hale, the family patriarch, clearly has a terrible sense of humor. 

Wait, are they saying he smells? Or are they just really awkwardly reminding him that they can actually smell how hot Stiles is for their son? Because that is some special werewolf brand of awkward he has not experienced until now. 

“Dad!” Laura and Cora respond in perfect unison. 

“I can tell where you got that sense of humor,” he whispers to Derek, not really caring that everyone will be able to hear. 

He loves a good dad joke, and he is already picturing his own father at this very table, joining the Hale family and cracking jokes with Joshua until everyone else is groaning at just how awful they are. Noah Stilinski would fit right in here, and so would Melissa, and Scott and Kira. But most of all, Stiles feels like he could fit in here. 

That is a Hallmark movie thought if he ever had one. 

Derek growls at him, not even remotely threatening. “Take that back.” 

“Make me,” Stiles resorts to the age-old teasing foreplay. 

Because Derek should just kiss him already. They’d eventually agreed that kissing would be fine within the limits of their fake relationship - and since it hardly even feels fake anymore, not to him… He would not object if Derek kissed him senseless at this point - or even if he just dragged Stiles upstairs and into his bedroom without another word. 

So far, it seems like Derek is on board, because he is leaning in. Stiles bares his neck on instinct - before he can even consider just what that means to wolves. It just feels right to let Derek scent him, rubbing his scruff against the sensitive skin below his jaw. 

He tilts his head even more, trying to make it easier for Derek to get access to his skin. 

“Derek,” Talia Hale attempts to break through the fog in their minds, “why don’t you take your mate upstairs? You can heat up what’s left of dinner later.” 

Upstairs? Yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea. That sounds like it could potentially be a bit more private, and like Derek could keep doing what he’s doing, and without the audience this time. Because exhibitionism is not really one of his many kinks. 

Wait, what was it that Talia just said? Mate?

“Mate?” Derek appears to be reading his mind yet again, asking the right question. 

Maybe he should have been the one to ask the question, because everyone is stunned to see the surprise on Derek’s face. Like this is something that he should have been aware of by now - after four months of fake dating - and like it is something that his entire family figured out right away. Like it is bad that Derek did not know. 

It makes him want to rush to defend Derek in any way he can. 

“Oh, Derek.” Talia’s tone is soft, almost pitying. 

So he starts rambling to take some of the heat off Derek, because he can feel that Derek needs him to. “Okay, I have read a lot of books about werewolves, and none of them were written by actual wolves. So the mates thing? I’m going to need an explanation.” 

The books have not been conclusive about this. They were all written by humans, observing wolves and their mates from the outside, not even from within the safety of pack. It makes the results heavily biased, blaming any inconsistencies on magic and werewolf culture - which really doesn’t make sense. It’s a terrible excuse for bad research. 

But still, what the books agree on… That means this is serious, in a terrifying and adorable and seriously overwhelming way. 

“It’s not what you think it is.” This is Derek trying to reassure him. 

“Derek,” he arches his eyebrows, more than a little skeptical. 

Derek shakes his head, trying to get through to him. “It’s not. This is not mates like soulmates, happily ever after, Lifetime original movie. It’s different. ” 

His words are not Derek’s strong suit, but he’s trying, and Stiles is absolutely willing to give him credit for that. He is trying to explain instead of pushing it aside, even for the moment. 

“Hallmark, Derek,” he has to make one important correction, before Derek gets the wrong idea here. “This is clearly a Hallmark Christmas movie. Lifetime is garbage - there’s always people comas and abusive exes and way too much drama. Hallmark is all fluff with a brief misunderstanding and hints of actual magical Santas.” 

Also, soulmates would absolutely be a thing even in Hallmark movies, because they are all about the magic of love and romance. There should absolutely be a movie about a rather average spark meeting the hottest werewolf to ever werewolf and then finding out that they are mates. And then they fall in love - because Hallmark. 

Though he’s not sure that Hallmark knows about werewolves. 

“Soulmates are about potential,” Talia Hale is better at explaining than her son. “Wolves can pick up on a smell that fits with their own, with their pack. Yours is the strongest I’ve ever seen - or smelled, yes honey, I know. But you and my son… you match.” 

Well that beats the whole ridiculousness of falling in love at first sight - because he is not down for any of that Scott McCall bullshit (suck it Scott, you’re a ridiculous human being and love at first sight does not exist). This just feels like a combination of physical attraction, of matching personalities, and a little bit of magic. 

Derek takes a deep breath before speaking. “You smell like home.” 

Holy fucking balls. That’s a lot. Good a lot, but still a lot. 

“Damn it Derek,” his voice comes out more fond than frustrated, “you cannot say shit like that to me in front of your parents! I don’t even know where the bedrooms are in this mansion, but I’m still tempted to drag you upstairs to find out!” 

Are they moving fast? Of course they are! But he’s moved faster with people whose last names he didn’t even know. And he’s getting to know Derek, getting a sense of the man and getting along with his family and totally and completely rushing into a serious relationship after three meetings. 

He is actually turning into Scott. That is an instant boner killer. He loves the guy, but still. 

“At least finish eating first.” Creepy Uncle Peter is also supremely gifted at killing the mood. 

“Don’t even, Creepy Lurker,” he wags a finger at the man. “You have no room to talk. You’ve been playing footsie with your wife for at least twenty minutes now.” 

That is not something that Peter Hale expected him to find out about, he’s sure of that. But when it’s so obvious, he is not going to pretend not to see anything, especially when it concerns someone who has been trying to pick at his composure from the second he arrived. He may not know why, but he is not just going to let it happen. 

Derek shrugs. “He’s an FBI agent.” 

“I’m perceptive,” Stiles clarifies. “Also, you tried the wrong leg the first time.” 

Oh, it is not his leg that was the recipient of any uncomfortable touching, but judging by Derek’s uncomfortable shifting around roughly twenty-five minutes ago, he knows who was forced to deal with it. Poor Derek. 

Peter laughs. “I thought Derek looked a bit sick there for a moment.” 

“Uncle Bad Touch,” Stiles is abruptly over the joke of it all, “you need to not. Just stop. I get it, you are super protective of Derek. You all are. I am too, and why wouldn’t I be, because he’s a damn delight… But dude, you need to stop making me uncomfortable as a test. Just ask me whatever it is you have been dying to ask me.” 

Clearly Peter Hale has got something against him for some reason. And it’s best to just get it out in the open, before it can fester and ruin everything. 

“What is your relationship with the Argents?” Peter asks a surprising question. 

“What?” Derek pales. 

That is exactly what he has been avoiding. After the things he’s heard about Kate “actually Satan” Argent, he probably should have said something about it. But there was so much to talk about and so little time to do it. He’d focused on the stuff he thought was actually going to come up at this dinner. 

Maybe he really should have been expecting the Spanish inquisition. 

“Derek,” Stiles reaches for him, because he needs Derek to know how serious he is. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this before, but I know Chris and Allison. Argent. They lived in Beacon Hills for a while after Victoria died. Allison used to date my best friend in high school, and he turned into a mopey shit when they broke up. Right, not the point. Allison managed to get her professional archery career off the ground, and she travels a lot. Plus Scott is happily married to Kira now - you really should meet them. They’d like you. They’d better.” 

If he just continues to talk, maybe something will eventually come out that will make up for the way that Derek has basically recoiled from him. Sure, he did not owe Derek any explanations when he first mentioned the Argents, but if he does want this whole mates thing to work, he might as well be honest. 

“And Chris?” Derek is still shut off to him. 

“He taught me how to shoot a gun,” Stiles has trouble summarizing Chris Argent. “He’s a consultant with the sheriff’s department. The Argent family Beastiary has saved all of our asses a ton of times over the years. And yes, he neglected to tell me just why his sister ended up in prison. Even when I arrested his father last year - which, that really was the right moment to have that conversation.” 

Gerard Argent is rotting away in maximum security somewhere, just what he deserves after what he did to Jackson. How he’d manipulated a teenage asshole into becoming a murderer, taking advantage of an orphan who’d never quite connected to his adoptive parents. If it had not been for Lydia “badass” Martin, who’d just happened to be home from MIT at the right time (a random coincidence he had not been able to explain), Beacon Hills would have been torn apart at the seems. Many people died, a lot of them innocent. 

“That was you?” Peter Hale is much too surprised at that. 

Stiles is offended at the low esteem he’s been held in. “I really want to say you’re welcome, but that would just be in poor taste.”

The supernatural division of the FBI has been keeping a close eye on Beacon Hills for years, and Stiles was recruited right out of high school. So yeah, he got a college degree on the west coast, but he’s been training to be an agent forever. And he’s good at his job, demanding as it may be. 

“And that is just not like you.” Derek finally teases him again. 

There’s that side of Derek that he wants to see always. The side that enjoys teasing him and making him look like a fool in front of his family. The slightly evil side - because no one would ever be interested in Stiles if they weren’t the slightest bit evil. 

“I’m a perfect angel,” he bats his eyes at Derek. 

“Lie,” Derek just smiles at him. 

“I really thought that was going to work,” he’d been hoping it would, anyway. “I really believed it for a second there.” 

Is he trying to think of ways to trick the werewolf senses? Absolutely. He is occasionally an almost compulsive liar, and he would like to be able to tell Derek at least a couple of white lies if they are actually going to try and make this work. 

Derek quirks one of his expressive eyebrows at him. “Not long enough.” 

“You’re such an asshole.” He pretends to look upset, but that lasts about half a second. 

He knows what he’d be saying to that, and he has to stop Derek before he says something along the lines of “Well, you are what you eat” in front of his entire family. That is a discussion they’re going to have in the privacy of their bedroom, later. 

“Don’t,” he is almost blushing. “Not in front of your parents.” 

Derek pointedly sniffs at him, because he is not subtle at letting Stiles know that he is very aware of just what turns him on and when it happens. Which is, indeed, at this very moment, because Derek is gorgeous and funny and into him. Those three never intersect. 

“I don’t even want to know where that was going,” Laura’s face is scrunched up. 

“You really don’t,” Stiles is all too happy to tell her. “Not if you ever want to look your brother in the eye again.” 

That pretty much silences the rest of the table right away. Which is exactly what he’d been intending. They won’t want to think about any of it too much, so any second now someone is going to come up with a nice distraction. 

“Stiles.” There is zero inflection in Derek’s voice. 

“Yes, dear?” He grins happily at Derek. 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Lie.” He tells Derek before any of the other wolves can comment. 

He does not want anyone to burst this particular bubble. And besides, he is almost 95% sure that Derek does not actually think that he is terrible - especially not with the way Derek is currently looking at him, trying to hide how amused he actually is. 

If they weren’t surrounded by Derek’s family, Stiles would already be kissing him. Happy is a seriously good look for Derek. 

“Can you wait with the foreplay until we finish dinner?” Cora is definitely not amused by their antics. “Because this is sickening.” 

Stiles looks down at his plate. He could be done eating. It wouldn’t be that much of a sacrifice. 

“We’ll have desert later, then,” he stands up and drags Derek away from the table. 

Derek goes willingly. 

* * *

He knows that Derek put their bags up in his room earlier, but he cannot quite remember where that room is. The house is huge, and he kind of has other things on his mind. 

Like finally kissing Derek. 

“Can’t wait until we actually get inside our room?” Derek is being a shit about how impatient he is to kiss and be kissed. 

“Patience is overrated.” Stiles has always thought so. 

At that, he finally gets to hear what Derek’s laugh sounds like. And it’s pretty much everything he’d been hoping for and more: slightly husky, too soft as if he’s holding back even now, his eyes bright and his teeth on display (oh fuck he has adorable bunny teeth and Stiles is dying over them). He wants Derek to laugh all the time, preferably because of him. 

“In here,” Derek manhandles him into the room. 

Stiles refuses to pretend that is not a thing for him. Derek is strong enough to lift him, to wrangle him, to throw him on the bed and just… take him. And that sounds really fucking good right about now. Even though they haven’t even kissed yet. 

Still, he kicks off his shoes right away and toes off his socks awkwardly, so he doesn’t have to bend down to take them off later. Derek is still locking the door behind them - which, good idea with those nosy family members downstairs, and when he turns around, Stiles is ready and waiting. 

“Kiss me,” Stiles orders, and Derek complies, finally. 

Standing up as they are, they are almost of a height. Stiles really cannot tell who’s taller, and he doesn’t really care, but it is nice not to have to stoop down to kiss someone for once. Derek is tall and broad and strong, and he quickly turns a slow peck into something more, something dirtier. When Stiles opens his mouth, trying to get Derek to give him more, Derek licks into it as if he’s trying to memorize the way Stiles tastes. 

Fuck, that’s hot. 

Derek’s scruff scrapes his skin and Stiles knows that his lips are going to be swollen and he’s going to have beard burn all over his face (and hopefully other areas) later. Because he is a kinky shit who gets off on being marked, on someone being a little possessive over him, he encourages Derek to be more harsh in his kissing, letting him scrape his beard down Stiles’ jaw and into his neck. 

“You smell good,” Derek rumbles. 

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Stiles barely manages to speak. 

He is focused on the way Derek is sucking marks on his neck, while he is throwing his stupidly sexy leather jacket onto the floor. He arches and writhes and hums out his approval, unable to stay quiet. 

Yeah, that’s not a new experience for him. Quiet and Stiles don’t see eye to eye. 

“Hold on,” he whispers, still catching his breath. 

Derek stills, looking at him intently, waiting for permission that he already has. Shit, Stiles is absolutely willing to give him blanket permission to touch him everywhere right the fuck now - patience, what even is that? 

“Off,” he mumbles against Derek’s mouth. “Shirt, off. Mine too.” 

It is starting to get difficult to form full sentences, but he’s sure Derek gets the message, as he immediately strips off his shirt - and holy fucking hell what a sight. Derek’s muscles have muscles, that is how solid he is, and Stiles can’t keep himself from running his fingers through the hair on Derek’s chest and flicking a nipple while he’s at it. 

“Yours too,” Derek reminds him, barely breathing heavy. “Off.” 

Letting go of Derek just long enough so he can strip off his stupid sweater, he almost gets it caught on his ears in his haste to be more naked with Derek. It makes him clumsy, and Derek laughs again as Stiles almost tears the damn thing apart in frustration. 

“Shut up,” Stiles huffs, not really all that offended. 

“Make me,” Derek returns, because he really is a smug asshole. 

Well, for once Stiles has no trouble following orders. He pulls Derek close again, kissing his warm mouth while mapping his bare chest at the same time.

He is an excellent multi-tasker. 

Derek starts herding him towards the bed, a king size monstrosity that takes up a significant amount of the room. It is a lot bigger than his own bed, and he is hoping to find out that it’s more comfortable as well. 

Stiles lets himself be pushed onto the bed, slowly climbing up towards the headboard as Derek acts like the predator he is and boxes him in completely. Stiles bares his neck to him and almost misses the flash of beta blue in Derek’s eyes when he does. 

“Come on Derek,” he goads. “Do it. Mark me.” 

Is it a good idea to give a wolf permission to get teeth happy on his neck? It absolutely is, a great idea even, because Derek is on him immediately, sucking and nipping and licking at his sensitive skin. There’s a hint of pain to the pleasure, and somehow that makes it even better - yes, he is a kinky shit. 

“Stiles,” his name comes out in a growl. 

“Derek,” he continues to challenge the werewolf. 

Stiles Stilinski is not ever going to be quiet and he is not ever going to stop challenging Derek in every way that he can. But Derek does not seem to mind it so far. 

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Derek is not really complaining, right?

“I know what I’m doing,” Stiles grins triumphantly.

He pulls at the dark hair under his fingers so that he can better see Derek’s face, and Derek groans. His other hand is used to move Derek’s hand to the button of his jeans, because seriously they need to be naked already. 

Derek unzips him and manages to get the jeans off him in no time at all. He presses Stiles into the mattress, rolling their hips together. 

“Fuck,” the word comes out of his mouth in a hoarse whisper. 

They are both hard, and Stiles is closer to the edge than he’d been expecting. He pushes and pulls at Derek so they can kiss again and again. His hands make their way to the zipper on Derek’s jeans to try and get Derek at least as naked as Stiles is at this point. 

“Slow down,” Derek tries to order him around. 

“Why?” 

Stiles tries to push the jeans down at least a little so he can get at Derek’s ass. He’s been waiting to get his hands on that since he first got a good look at it. 

“Give me a second,” Derek sounds more frantic now. 

“Okay, okay,” Stiles moves his hands up, caressing Derek’s back gently. 

Even though he’s getting a bit of mood whiplash at the way they’ve just gone from a hundred back to zero (or really, about fifteen), he’s perfectly content to just be in Derek’s arms, having his weight pressing him into the seriously comfy mattress. He’s never done the whole relationship and cuddling type deal before - that’s awesome too. 

If Derek just wants to make out like they’re teenagers and not go any further than that, he is still going to be seriously happy. He might have to jerk off in the bathroom later, because apparently he’s on a hair trigger, but he’d still be good. 

“You smell like mine,” Derek’s voice is awed. “I need a minute. It’s… I need a minute.” 

Oh, fuck, yeah, that’s really hot. 

And probably a lot to take in with werewolf senses. A mate, someone with potential, reeking so heavily of home and pack and Derek? That’s bound to fuck with his senses and maybe even with his control. 

“We can slow down,” Stiles magnanimously agrees as he cups Derek’s cheek. “We have time. All the time, now we’ve done the whole fake to real relationship deal.” 

He presses a soft kiss to Derek’s lips, mindful of the fangs that are just now starting to recede. Derek sighs into his mouth and then gently flips them so that Stiles is the one on top for once, straddling Derek while only wearing boxers. 

Crap, he should not focus on that too much because they’re slowing down, damn it. 

“Don’t tell my family,” Derek is still a little embarrassed of the lie. 

Stiles refuses to be embarrassed. “Nah, they’d never believe me anyway.” 

Seriously, even if he does ever decide to tell the Hale family that he met Derek at a coffee shop just days ago, they simply would not believe him. Not with the ridiculously smitten look on Derek’s face, the one that’s undoubtedly reflected on his own. 

Is this what being in a relationship is like? Because he is super comfortable with the flirting and the banter and the teasing and the sarcasm, but the softness and the cuddling and the sappy twitterpated stuff? That feels foreign to him. Kind of nice, but foreign.

The whole Scott and Allison saga suddenly makes a lot more sense to him. 

And that’s when it hits him. 

“Ugh,” he groans, hiding his face in Derek’s chest. “I’m going to have to tell Scott that I met you because I was yelling at him on the phone. He is going to be so pleased with himself. I can’t do it. I hate it when he gets all smug.” 

It is not like Scott actually had any impact on the relationship that is currently developing, just because he was inadvertently involved in their meet-cute. Still, Scott will get all mushy about the story anyway, because he’s a giant sap who is basically a real life puppy. 

“We could always lie to him,” Derek is super comfortable with lies and machinations - hot. “At least the stories will match up.” 

Oh fuck, the whole mates and potential thing is making more and more sense to him by the minute. He should absolutely be with someone who goes along with his crazy ideas - even encouraging him from time to time - but will still give him crap about it. No Scott-like complaining about danger and making sure Stiles took all the blame when Melissa and the Sheriff found out. 

Derek is not nearly as lawful good - that is one sneaky Hufflepuff, and he digs it. 

“Scott would absolutely believe the Hallmark Christmas movie story,” Stiles lifts up his head and smiles down at Derek. “He’s such an idiot.” 

This feeling, the one he gets now that Derek is keeping him warm (damn that werewolf body heat is something else), where he doesn’t even mind that that the button on Derek’s jeans is digging awkwardly into his skin, because he’s still so damn comfortable? Yeah, that feeling he likes. He wants to keep feeling it. 

“I can see why you’re so close,” Derek runs his fingers over Stiles’ neck, leaving another trail of his scent over the marks he’s undoubtedly left. 

Next time, he is absolutely going to stake his mark on Derek in return. He doesn’t care if that’s a normal thing in the werewolf community (he really doesn’t know enough about the social side of werewolves), but he’s doing it. Derek is his, and he is a greedy bastard who is going to make sure that everyone knows it. 

“You’re an asshole.” He says it to hide how happy he is. 

Because he should not be this excited about Derek insulting him, even though he’s not even close to hurt by the joke - it just makes him happy to see Derek enjoying himself, being immature and cracking jokes and putting that sense of humor that no one thinks he has on full display. 

“You know,” Derek is getting ready to be an ass about something again, he just knows it. “I distinctly remember you telling me you wouldn’t use asshole as a pet name.” 

He laughs. “Fuck you.” 

Derek is right, though. That makes it worse. 

“Taking it slow, remember?” Derek is enjoying the teasing, thinking he has the upper hand. 

“I remember,” he responds, before pressing a quick kiss to Derek’s lips. 

Yes, he is a bit of a tease, and he is not ashamed of it. It is his way of getting the upper hand here, and probably the only way to keep Derek from getting too smug about being right. 

Unless…

“Besides,” he grins smugly at Derek, “I can’t be hoarding the birthday boy when the clock strikes midnight.” 

The surprise on Derek’s face tells him that he’s won this round. Though things might turn around again when Derek finds out Stiles has painstakingly wrapped a pair of headphones just to be a dick about how they met. 

His Christmas present is probably even worse.

Stiles is already looking forward to seeing Derek’s face as he opens the gorgeous hardback edition of Little Red Riding Hood. 

(Derek has gotten him a pair of glasses with tape holding them together. Because they’re both fucking assholes. Hallmark would never be able to show their story on a family-friendly channel. And he likes it all the better for it.)


End file.
